


I'm Only Good at Being Young

by Thunderrrstruck



Series: Hell Bound [4]
Category: Psych (TV 2006), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Demon Deals, Gen, I have read this over a total of one time bc yolo I guess?, Take me instead, The Truth is Out There
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26954446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderrrstruck/pseuds/Thunderrrstruck
Summary: Gus knows his best friend is hiding something. Shawn is being as reluctant as ever to engage in serious matters.
Relationships: Burton "Gus" Guster & Shawn Spencer
Series: Hell Bound [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969825
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: Whumptober





	I'm Only Good at Being Young

**Author's Note:**

> Writing for day 9 of Whumptuber2020. Prompt: "Take me instead." This is a sequel oneshot to my previous fic titled "See You In Hell", but you don't need to read that before this.
> 
> Title inspired by John Mayer's "Stop This Train" – give it a listen, it's a good vibe for this AU!

“You’ve been acting weird, lately, Shawn.”

Despite his best friend's concern, the psychic continued to ignore the pressing topic. Since his demon interaction a month ago, he had yet to tell Gus about it. In fact, he didn’t even _want_ to. Gus was happy in his apple pie, pharmaceutical life. Shawn couldn’t take that away again. What kind of friend would prioritise the truth over someone’s emotions?

“I’m gonna take a quick nap, okay man?” Shawn said, electing to ignore the topic altogether. He rolled to the right and shuffled across the seat until he managed a convincing sleeping position. “Night-tight,” he said, layering on a thick, sleepy voice.

He barely closed his eyes when Gus slapped him on the arm. Shawn jolted upright.

“What was _that_ for?” whined Shawn (even though he knew exactly what it was for). The cons of having a best friend throughout the majority of your life: it became harder and harder to lie to them. “If I die on my next case because of that, I’m haunting your ass.”

Gus made a haughty sound in the back of his throat but kept otherwise quiet. The car cruised on, and Shawn took the paired silence as a sign of a dropped conversation. He tried to take solace in the passing blur of buildings, but his throat itched. He coughed, but the itch grew into a lump. He swallowed, but it lingered, unsatisfied. _Come on, Gus! Just say something!_ He began bouncing in his seat, face scrunched with every ounce of willpower he possessed.

“What’s your _point_ , man?!” he burst. (The itch in his throat vanished then and there.)

“My point is,” Gus said, carefully controlled, “you haven’t been acting yourself lately.”

“What? That’s crazy! I’m _always_ myself!”

“I know you’re not telling me something.”

“Psssh.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Shawn said quickly. “I didn’t do anything. What do you mean?”

“Did you and Juliet–?”

“No! I mean, we didn’t– I wouldn’t– that’s not...” Shawn stifled what would have been a very telling sigh. “It’s nothing to do with Jules.”

“So, you admit it’s something, then.”

 _Dammit_.

“I can’t say ‘no’ now, can I?”

“Shawn.”

“I made a deal, okay?!” Shawn exploded. “Happy now?”

In the silent seconds which followed, his heart sank to the miraculously clean floor of the company car. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Gus took his eyes off the road several times. His owlish stare pierced Shawn’s composure. He wasn’t going to look over; he told himself he wasn’t; he looked over. Immediate regret.

"A demon deal?"

Shawn dug his teeth into his bottom lip. "Yeah."

With the admittance came a brigade of criticism: “What could possibly make you think that would be a good idea?”

“I...” Shawn took a deep breath, but when that didn’t cleanse himself of his mental barriers, he shifted across the passenger seat and flopped against the back of the seat. “You were... you were in the hospital.”

“That was a month ago.”

The view outside the Blueberry looked much more pleasant. Kids were scootering down the California sidewalks and adults were leaving shops with bags dangling from their arms. Shawn longed for Gus to stop the car if only so he could barrel out the door and avoid having the rest of this conversation. He'd much rather be purchasing the colourful trinkets sitting just inside the shop windows.

“And all this time, you didn’t tell me?”

"Come on. Can you honestly say you wouldn't be happier not knowing?"

Tires screeched across the asphalt before Shawn realised they were stopping. He checked out each window, adrenaline pumping, expecting something horrible to have occurred for Gus to stop in the middle of the road. _He hadn’t even pulled to the side!_

“Let me get this straight,” he said while backing up. A couple feet in reverse later and Gus shifted into ‘drive’ again. The car veered right into an alleyway and parked to the side of the incline. “You made a deal, which means you'll be going to Hell in some amount of time, and you expect me to be okay with that?” Shawn tried to keep his expression hopeful. “That’s messed up.”

“It was a classic ‘take me instead’ scenario,” he defended, but it was a mad scramble at straws. “And frankly, I don’t regret it.”

The transition from blinking into a frown was hard to watch. Gus slid his gaze back to the windshield, a hand drifting to his keys. It took three seconds before he made another move and that was just to drop his hand into his lap.

“You always wanted the easy-breezy life,” Shawn explained, preferring to keep long-winded emotional rants at arms reach.

“How long?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. How long, Shawn?”

“Long enough. Why do people think having a long life is always a better one, anyways? No everyone fits inside the box–.”

The side-eyed glare from Gus, weirdly, worked. Shawn was far off his game if he was having a hard time ignoring the rest of the world's demands.

“Two years,” a defeated Shawn mumbled.

“Two years,” repeated Gus. He was still for a second before taking up the keys again. He twisted them in the ignition.

The conversation didn’t feel finished to Shawn, but he did not feel like continuing. No only had he run out of viable deflections, but – for the first time in his life – he just didn't want to speak. It was a blessing in disguise when Gus drove off without another word, but even as Shawn watched the blurring outdoors, he felt much worse than before.


End file.
